A Very German Christmas
by princessamaterasu
Summary: 'Twas the week before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a German and his hyperactive brother. That is until they remember it's a week before Christmas and still haven't decorated the house. Just a silly little story about Christmases past.


I wrote this as a little gift for all of my fans this Christmas :) I hope you all enjoy it and have a Merry Chritmas and a great New Year!

I don't own Hetalia :/

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Snow falls gently outside in shimmering, delicate flakes as a cold December wind swirls them in lazy circles. There is already a thick layer of the fine power covering just about everything, and it doesn't look like it's going to let up until a heavy white blanket has settled over the winter wonderland.

Ludwig lets the curtain fall back in front of the frosted windowpane and goes back to his book. He doesn't envy the people that occasionally walk past the large house. It's much nicer inside with a cracklings fire and a fascinating book on increasing one's proficiency. The German turns the page with a quick flick of the wrist. Yes, it's definitely much better to spend the evening indoors relaxing without a care in the world.

Suddenly, the front door slams open. "Hey! West! Help me get inside, kesesesese!" Something large, green, and covered in snow is trying to force its way into the house.

"Brother? Is that you?" Ludwig asks without getting up from his armchair.

"Who else would it be?" A struggling Gilbert calls from the doorway. "Help me get this inside before I turn into an awesome-sicle!"

Ludwig sighs heavily and sets his book down. He gets up to help his brother haul a rather large pine tree into the warm house. A slight shiver goes down the German's spine as cold air rushes into the house through the open door. He quickly shuts it to keep the house from becoming too cold.

"What is this?" he asks his white haired brother.

"Isn't it obvious?" Gilbert answers with a grin that reaches ear to ear. "It's a Christmas tree! A pretty awesome one since I picked it myself."

Ludwig raises a brow. "A Christmas tree? Isn't it too early for that?"

A confused look comes across the Prussian's face. "Early? There's only a week left until Christmas."

"WHAT?!"

Ludwig hurries into the kitchen where a large calendar is hanging on the wall. The picture for this month is one of Francis wearing a Santa suit posing in a sleigh. The Frenchman had given all of the nations calendars like this for Christmas last year, and Ludwig couldn't bring himself to throw away something that was actually practical. He looks past all of the days that have been methodically crossed out to the first box that isn't, December 18. Sure enough, there is only a week until Christmas.

"Why didn't you say something," the blonde man asks his brother, who has just walked into the kitchen.

"I thought you knew," Gilbert replies with a shrug. He walks over to a jar full of little gingerbread men and pulls one out to nibble on. "I figured you were too busy with the other countries and was putting off decorating. I didn't think you forgot." He bites the head off the dark cookie.

"Where did those come from?" Ludwig can't remember ever making those, and he knows for a fact that the Prussian can't be bothered to do any kind of baking, even if he's alright at it.

"Elizabeta gave them to me the last time I was over at that prissy Roderich's house." Gilbert pulls out another cookie man and bites off a crumbly leg.

Ludwig walks over and puts the lid back on the jar. "No more cookies," he says in a voice his brother knows can only mean one thing. "We have work to do."

Germans know how to do Christmas, and Ludwig Beilschmidt takes exceptional pride in it. He's been to every Christmas market in Germany, and several in Austria and Switzerland. Christmas is something the German takes seriously, even more so than training. He has the tree set up in a cozy corner of the front room faster than it takes most people to pick out their tree. Every branch is in it's proper place, and not a single needle lays scattered on the floor.

A loud thump catches Ludwig's attention, and soon his white haired brother walks into the room carrying a large box. "I found all the decorations in the basement," Gilbert grumbles from behind the tattered, heavy box. "There's three more at the bottom of the stairs."

A few minutes later, Ludwig comes up from the basement carrying two more boxes, and Gil follows with the last. They set their load down next to the deep green tree with a sigh of relief.

"We have a lot of stuff, West," the Prussian comments. He plops down on the plush couch across from the fireplace. "It's going to take hours to put this stuff up!"

"What do you suggest then? We only put up some of them?"

"Well, since you waited so long," the white haired man teases.

Ludwig has to take a moment to think about what to do. He would hate giving up decorating the house in true Christmas spirit, but at the same time, his brother is right. The German waited too long to really do it properly, and it's not in his nature to do something half heartedly.

"I suppose we can put up just a few of these things," Ludwig concedes.

"Alright!" The Prussian springs up from the couch. "I wanna pick which box to open first!"

He sits down next to the biggest cardboard box like an excited child and pulls open the flaps. A layer of tissue paper covers the contents of the box, and Gilbert pulls that off and tosses it aside. The Prussian lifts up the item closest to the top an begins laughing hysterically.

"What? What is it?" Ludwig asks in alarm.

"Kesesesesese! Remember this?" The white haired man holds up a Santa figurine.

"Who could forget?" his brother replies with a hint of a smirk on his face.

"That was one heck of a Christmas party." Gil shakes his head. "That American really knows how to throw a good party."

Ludwig disagrees with his brother, but doesn't say so. The albino loves riotous parties with lots of food, music, and girls, but his brother prefers something a little more quiet and cultured. That's why he didn't go to parties thrown by other nations often.

The particular party Gilbert was referring to was the most boisterous event Ludwig had ever gone to. Alfred had hired hundreds of people to dress up like Santa Claus and walk around shouting "HO HO HO!" at people. If that wasn't creepy enough, some of the Santas started following some of the female nations around, but they learned soon enough that they were making a big mistake. Ludwig had never seen Elizabeta swing her frypan so hard before, not even at his obnoxious brother.

"How many of those are there?" the German asks.

"I don't know. A lot," Gilbert answers as he digs through the box. "Alfred gives us a different one every year after his party."

"Just put up a few," Ludwig says with a sigh. He takes a bunch, and his brother takes a bunch, and they distribute them around the house. They were only going to put up some, but ended up putting out all of them.

"Alright, what else is in here?" the albino mumbles to himself once all the Santa figures are set up. He reaches into the open box and pulls out a long string with macaroni noodles strung on it. "What is this, West?"

A low groan rumbles in Ludwig's throat. "Feliciano made that for me last Christmas."

"Yeah, but what is it?"

"I think it's supposed to go on the tree." The Prussian stands up to wrap it around the tree, but his tall brother stops him. "We're not putting that on the tree."

"Why not?" Gilbert protests. "It was in the box."

"Because...because..."

The German can't think of a single reason why the macaroni string shouldn't go on the tree because all he can think about is Feli's smiling face. Ludwig couldn't bring himself to tell the Italian it looks like something a grade schooler would make, so he accepted it with a forced smile. Feli was so delighted that he made about twenty other tree decorations out of different kind of pasta, including a star.

Ludwig takes the macaroni string from his brother and puts it on the tree himself. "We don't have to put up all of them," he says. Gilbert joins him with more pasta ornaments, and they end up putting all of them up anyway.

Once they run out of pasta, the albino looks into the bottom of the box to see what's left. "Hey! Remember these?" He lifts out several smaller boxes with colorful labels on them.

"Are those the nativities?"

"Yeah!" Gilbert holds up a very oriental looking set. "Kiku gave this one to us a few years ago."

"Was that the year he spent Christmas with us?" the blonde man asks with a smile.

That had been a good Christmas. Kiku was still fairly new to the idea of Christmas, so the brothers had invited him over to demonstrate how to celebrate in true Christmas fashion. He had been rather overwhelmed by all of the different traditions, but the best had been singing carols. His heavy accent made it difficult for him to pronounce some of the words, and Gilbert couldn't help but he reminded of that scene in A Christmas Story. They had shown that to him too.

"Hey, when did we get this one?" the Prussian asks with a confused yet suspicious expression. He holds up a nativity that is actually a Russian nesting doll with each smaller piece being another character of the stable scene.

The smiles quickly disappear from both of the brothers' faces as they realize the only one who could have given them something like that. "Ivan," Ludwig says in a hushed voice. The name itself seems to chill the air in the house.

"When did he give you this?" Gilbert asks. He seems to be contemplating throwing it away.

"I..." The German wracks his brain trying to remember when it had happened, but no answer comes. "I don't remember."

"Wait a minute! Wasn't it a few years back at a Christmas party at Arthur's house?" Gilbert takes a moment to try to recall the events. "Someone had started a drinking contest and you got so drunk you fell off your chair!"

"I don't remember that!" the younger Beilschmidt brother insists.

The albino laughs. "You wouldn't. You were so drunk I had to get Antonio and Francis to help me get you home."

Ludwig continues to delve into the depth of his memory to try to remember that evening. Vague images and thoughts start to surface, and he pieces them together the best he can. He can remember that there was a drinking contest started by someone that he can't recall, yet can't help but feel that it was his own brother. He can also remember that things started getting progressively hazy as he drank more beer. That's when he remembers.

Ivan had been trying to approach him all night, but the German had done his best to avoid the tall man. The Russian had never been a particularly good acquaintance of Ludwig's. He can recall Ivan being one of the people entered in the contest and how he never seemed to get tipsy no matter how much vodka he drank, which was quite a bit. Right toward the end, before Ludwig had passed out, the Russian had handed him the box Gilbert is now holding with a small smile and walked away. It used to have a little tag on it that said "Merry Christmas. Become one with Mother Russia, da?" that had mysteriously disappeared.

A light blush colors Ludwig's face as he remembers how foolishly he had acted. "You can't hold your liqueur, eh West?"

The blonde man doesn't answer his brother. Instead he pulls out several more nativities from the box. "We don't have to put them all out." He exits the room with a handful of boxes.

Gilbert looks into the biggest cardboard box for nativities of his own to put up, but it's completely empty. It would seem Ludwig took all of them with him. The Prussian moves to the next box and opens the flaps. More tissue paper goes flying as he uncovers the contents of this box.

Ludwig returns to see his brother looking at a worn nutcracker painted to look like a soldier. He holds it very carefully with a soft expression on his pale face. Other nutcrackers lay strewn around the floor, but Gilbert only has eyes for the one in his hands.

"Old Fritz gave this to me a long time ago," he says quietly.

Ludwig had heard his brother mention Old Fritz before, but he had never met the former ruler of Prussia. The tall man sits down next to his brother and picks up a brightly colored figure. "Do you remember when we got this one?"

It takes a moment for Gilbert to tear his eyes away from the nutcracker in his hands. "Didn't we get that when we went to a Christmas market in Austria with that stuck up prick?"

"Yes, we went with Roderich and Elizabeta," Ludwig says, making sure to stress the Austrian's name. "Remember how that pile of snow fell on your head?"

"That wasn't funny!" the Prussian yells over his brother's quiet laughing.

It really was a funny, as Ludwig recalls. The four of them had gone to a Christmas market when it was snowing, and the snow had begun to accumulate on the tops of some of the stalls. Gilbert was being particularly annoying that day. He would bounce back and forth between vendors either complaining about the weather or begging Ludwig to buy him something. The German was reaching the end of his rope, and was seriously considering throwing his brother in a snow pile, when someone did the job for him.

The whole thing happened so quickly that Ludwig still isn't sure how it all went down. All he knows for sure is that Gilbert had been admiring some hand carved wooden birds that reminded him of Gilbird when an avalanche of snow from the canopy above his head came crashing down and covered the albino in a heavy layer of white.

Ludwig can't say for sure, but he suspects it was Roderich's doing. The way he stood next to the vendor stall with a smug look on his face and adjusted his glasses made the blonde man very suspicious. Not that he minded of course. One of the few things he and the Austrian can actually agree on is how obnoxious Gilbert is.

Ludwig chuckles again and his brother snatches the nutcracker out of his hand. "It wasn't funny!"

"Whatever you say, brother." The German picks up a few more figures and sets them on the mantel above the fireplace. "We don't have to put them all out."

The elder Beilschmidt picks up the rest of the nutcrackers and places them beside the ones already on the mantel. Neither of them realizes that they put up all of the figures. In actuality, the rest of the evening continues in the same manner. They open a box and riffle through its contents until they find something particularly meaningful to one or both of them. Then they reminisce about Christmases past while putting up the festive decorations.

Every time they pull something new from the box, they say to only put a few of whatever it is out, and every time, they end up putting out everything. Soon, all of the boxes are empty, and the house is full of holiday cheer. Both brothers sit on opposite ends of the couch with mugs of hot chocolate as they watch a log crackle and burn in the fireplace.

"I really like this time of year," Gilbert murmurs before taking a sip of cocoa.

"Yes, I agree with you there, brother." Ludwig looks around the front room thoughtfully. "We still have a lot of baking to do yet you know."

The Prussian groans loudly. "C'mon, West! I'm too tired now!"

"No time like the present." Ludwig gets to his feet and heads toward the kitchen. "I'll make the stollen."

"Hey! Wait for me! I call first dibs on the stollen, kesesesese!"


End file.
